Seventy One Apologies
by enaskoritsi
Summary: . Aerith x Zack . When a loved one never comes back, sometimes you can’t find anyone to blame but yourself, even if the fault couldn't be further than your own.


_Disclaimer : _I do not own Final Fantasy VII, any of the related games or characters.

Author's Note : Just a small piece about Aerith and thoughts she might have concerning Zack and his absence. I know there were more than this; this is just the letter this takes place during.

Thanks for reading and please review.

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Seventy-One Apologies

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_Zack,_

I should be happy, shouldn't I?

My life is better than it was a few years ago, before I met you. Everyone wants my flowers now. Sometimes, all it takes is a few feet outside with my cart until they're all gone, just a few neglected petals decorating the bottom. Those don't even stay for long either, because the wind wants them too, and soon enough she gathers them up in her strong hands to blow them home with her.

But I'm not happy.

I think I'm selfish, Zack. I have everything I didn't have before; a successful business, the ability to bring expressions of honest joy to people's dirty faces. You can see flowers everywhere now, you know. People decorate the front of their tiny houses or some even exchange them in tender expressions of affection. They thank me so much for them, the little blossoms the upper beings allow me to grow. I possess things never meant for anyone in the slums.

It shouldn't be so difficult for me to smile.

You _always_ made me smile, even when I thought it was impossible. It was just so easy; there were so many little things. The way your face would fall like a guilty child about to be reprimanded if you accidently crushed a single leaf in your haste to see me when you came to visit, the eagerness to help even these crude, impoverished people who couldn't bring themselves to fully trust you. Your blue eyes, infused with something that should be dangerous and evil but somehow wasn't just because it was you, and your own infectious grins, bright and sparkling with life.

And with love, love for me.

You called me an angel when you fell, do you remember? You scared me at first, plummeting from the sky and hitting the ground with this terrifying crack that almost made me think you were dead. I think I jumped a whole foot in the air when it happened, and I can just imagine your teasing comments if you knew. I was so relieved when you woke up, so strangely glad that I felt like I was walking on air.

You know Zack, I thought _you_ were the angel. That...sounds a little weird, doesn't it? That's why I never told you; I always figured you might laugh if I said it.

But it was true, even if you wouldn't have believed me or been able to see it. You were from a world above me, a place where there was an actual glowing sun, and not only that but a sky, a real blue sky with those puffy white clouds I had only heard rumors about. You weren't scared of it either, like I was; in fact, I wonder if you were afraid of anything. You were so brave, fighting all those impossible monsters and protecting us, taking care of me.

Even if you aren't a real angel, you were always mine. My guardian angel.

I wish I had told you that before you left. There were so many things I wanted and keep wanting to say. Every day that passes I think of a hundred more, find a thousand more to share, come up with a million more to try to remember until you come back. Ever since you've been gone I wake up in the night with a mouth full of confessions, embarrassed declarations. Only, there's no one to tell them to, and I have to swallow them back down into my heart, which is already stuffed to bursting. I whisper them when it's too much, pretending you're there and holding me close, telling me it's alright, that you feel the same.

It doesn't help though, because the night doesn't comfort me, flash me a smile and make me giggle like a lovesick girl the way you would. It only listens with a stony ear, taking what I give and returning nothing, leaving me empty and wasted.

But I can't stop, can't stop thinking about you, going over every conversation we shared, every touch that filled me with that warm feeling, that feeling that erased every pain and left only the utmost joy.

I'm unable to keep myself from reliving all the wrong moments too, the little things you probably ignored but that seem so huge, so incredibly staggering now.

Every time I take my cart out, feel the smooth surface underneath my trembling fingers, I see you, laboring for hours to make it perfect. I reply the way you had wiped the sweat from your forehead and stood, gesturing to it proudly, dreadfully excited that you had created it for me.

And I had told you _I didn't like it._

I told you it wasn't cute, after you had worked so much. I pouted like a spoiled child, a selfish fool who took hours of labor and love before throwing it back because she wanted more, because it wasn't perfectly what she had imagined.

I wasn't grateful like I should have been, like a good person would've been.

I pass the park on my walk each day, the one with the rusty slide and lacking the proper children to bring it the touch of life. I told you SOLDIERS were monsters that day, didn't I? I said they weren't natural; they were scary. What must you have thought when I said that? You took it so well, barely flinching when I continued that flow of blind words. You never turned them against me and you could have; you had ever right to!

Is it because of me? Am I the reason that you're not here right now, the reason we're not together like we're supposed to be? I know you Zack, and you would never, _never_ lie to me, hurt me. So I must've hurt you, right? What other explanation can there be, besides my own clumsy words and unthankfulness?

I feel so guilty, so utterly and completely _guilty_.

I've been writing you letters, small notes with the simplest sentences scribbled down. I pour my soul into them, into those easy words that come straight from my heart. They're my only connection with you, my only hope to keep our bond alive and not just some fascination alone in my head.

I'm past seventy now.

You haven't sent me back a single one.

I refuse to think that you've forgotten me. You're better than that, too true to do something so horrible and cruel.

Come back, Zack. Don't leave me here alone, all by myself with these flowers that aren't enough for me anymore.

I'll do whatever it takes to see you run through that doorway again, to feel your hands around my waist as you pick me up and twirl me around until we're both so dizzy we fall.

I wear pink now, only pink just for you. You asked me to once, and I smiled and pushed you away in that playful manner I saved just for when you came. I really do it now though, and I've never stepped outside without your ribbon in my hair. I'm doing everything I can to make you want to return to me.

I don't know what else I can do, so please let this be enough.

I miss you.

I love you.

_Aerith_


End file.
